


𝕴'𝖒 𝕻𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓.

by BlueHornet



Series: ∫ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵛⁱˡ ʷᵉᵉᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ ʰᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ∫ @ForlornPast [1]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22693099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueHornet/pseuds/BlueHornet
Summary: Dean has made peace with what he has become, using it to keep the demon side of him contained. But is he really in control?
Series: ∫ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵛⁱˡ ʷᵉᵉᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ ʰᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ∫ @ForlornPast [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632352





	1. 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐎𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐧,

**Author's Note:**

> Dean has made peace with what he has become, using it to keep the demon side of him contained. But is he really in control?

_Too late. God, he had been too late._

_Even as the creature dropped lifeless to the ground, the hunter’s attention had never truly been on it, a quick dispatch as soon as he had burst into the clearing to stop the attack he should have prevented. He had been too late._

_But not late enough to catch the dying woman as she too fell. Not too late to hold her and watch as the life left her eyes and her lungs gasped for their last breath._

_He was always too late._

❖ ❖ ❖

Papers went flying as Dean jerks upright, looking around from where he had fallen asleep at the desk after browsing through possible cases. Disorientated at first, the hunter blinks as he glances around, momentarily forgetting what he was meant to be doing as the screams echo in his mind.

_**‘Why didn’t you help me?'**_

Glancing around at the voice, he could swear he caught a flash of blonde hair but found himself alone in the room, eyes soon falling to the table as hands raise to massage his temples.

He had taught himself to never form attachments, never let anyone close cause, in his line of work, everyone who did got hurt in the end. There was no avoiding it. Even more so with the darkness lingering inside him now, something he's had to make peace with. As long as he can do his job, guess he'll be fine being stuck with it.

And yet, another person killed because of his lapse in control. Another memory to shut out. To forget as best he could. Hard to do so when he fought with himself to keep the past buried. And yet, the demon cherishes the pain, pushing long kept hidden memories to the forefront of his mind, driving him to his nights of little sleep.

He’s always too late.

[So Cold](https://youtu.be/DUTrgdH1tkI)


	2. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞.

_Light peeked out from under the blankets propped over the young boy as he read. It was too late to be up, knew he would get in trouble if his mother caught him but he could never put the book down once he started reading._

_Torch tucked under his chin, his eyes flickered over the pages of the journal before him. A journal of everything his father knew of the supernatural so far, of how to deal with each situation that could occur, each species they could face that were known so far. Of course, his father hadn’t given it to him with the intention of him staying up all night reading, but he had been too caught up in the book to have noticed the passing of time this night, or give much care of it. Didn’t give anything much attention of course until his father’s yelling had pulled him from his focus, taking mere seconds to follow the yelling to his brother’s room only to stumble to a halt with wide eyes._

_At first, he had thought the fire to have been the only worry, not until his eyes were drawn to the white at the center of the ceiling and the form visible there. His mind had only just processed the image of his mother attached to the ceiling with her stomach sliced when his father had pushed something - no,_ someone _\- into his arm and yelled at him to get his brother outside to safety._

_He always obeyed his father, would always make sure Sammy was safe and so he had done so, keeping his little brother wrapped securely in his blanket as he raced outside to stand on the front lawn and watch as the destruction took place. Watch as the flames burst out the window, standing there frozen until his father appeared and pulled him further away from the burning building._

_He should have saved her. He should have tried._

❖ ❖ ❖

He jerks up with a gasp, eyes wide as he looks around his room, once again finding himself disorientated and confused. He was quick to regain his bearings, swallowing as a hand raises to brush through his hair and his head lowers. His gaze drops to the discarded journal he had dropped on the bedside table earlier before giving in to sleep.

He had managed to sleep better for the past couple of days, enough for him to think that perhaps he could fall back into his old ways once more and push those memories away, keep them at bay to focus on the job at hand undistracted. That the demon had given up trying to push past his barriers. At least till the job was done. But that was what he always says, instead trying to lock them away for good and refusing to acknowledge the guilt and regret that weigh heavily on his shoulders.

He had trained as hard as he could, determined to make his father proud, yet he had failed that night to be alert, to be aware of the tense atmosphere bleeding from the room next to him. 

Moving to the bathroom, he turns lets the water run and splashes his face, hands soon braced on the edge of the sink as he watches the water disappear down the drain before he finally turns the tap off. Rolling his shoulders with a small sigh, he reaches for the towel and dries his face, putting it down soon after.

_**'You could have saved her...You could have saved**_ **all _of them.'_**

He startles from his thoughts as his head jerks up, eyes meeting those of his reflection, whites disappearing into the black momentarily before the orange glow draws his gaze to look over the shoulder of his reflection at the flames erupting from the ceiling of his bedroom, his mother’s face outlined by the burning flames, staring right back at him.

Spinning around with a shout of his mother’s name, he soon pauses as he finds the room untouched by flames, finds himself alone as he often is in his mind, always staying strong to those around him. Those who he couldn’t let see inside, see how broken he was, see just how his control over his inner demon was slipping. He couldn’t worry anyone, he had to deal with this alone. As he always did.

Perhaps he was too stubborn, but he doesn’t want to bring anyone else down with him should he fall, couldn’t let anyone see that side of him he kept hidden for so long. He couldn’t bring anyone else down like he had on that night. Fleeing from the fire, from his mother.

And once outside, the little boy had simply stood there. He hadn’t gone back to help once he had gotten Sam to safety. Hadn’t even thought to go back.

_**'You should have saved them.'**_

[Mistakes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Doy8Cs7-x_c)


	3. 𝐋𝐚𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭,

_He’s always too late._

_Many times the young hunter had paid the price for miscalculations, for making errors when there was room for none. But never before had the price been the life of an innocent, especially that of a friend._

_So hard they worked to make sure no one else was hurt while they were on the job. Why had they failed now? Why had_ he _failed?_

_The demon possession had been tricky to locate the suspect since the demon was working hard to avoid detection, Dean having thought they had it in the bag. He had let his guard down, too caught up in memories being in his hometown had stirred to the surface that he hadn’t realised what had been in front of him the whole time. Not until he was too late._

_The suspected vessel for the demon had been found and they had caught and restrained the man, though he ignored question after question and refused to say anything. Dean should have never let his friend inside the room, he should have paid more attention to his friend’s new companion. Too many errors, all because of him._

_Alex had been arguing with Dean that he shouldn’t have to leave since the demon was restrained when the man had suddenly broken free. When he had grabbed for the knife and lunged at them, Dean had acted on instinct and in defence of his friend and his companion when he raised the weapon._

Bang.

❖ ❖ ❖

A sigh escapes the male as he drops the file down onto the table, hand raising to rub at his eyes. He had heard of the woman killed when yet another demon had first appeared in the next town. For days, he had been searching, setting up traps that would only activate in the demon’s presence, at the ready to trap the demon and get rid of the danger first chance he got. Hours to try and keep those long buried memories at bay. But, while he reads through the notes of the town’s history and what was written so far about demonic possession and removal of the entity, the thoughts had slowly crept their way into his head. The demon once again twisting thoughts into his head.

_**'Why hadn’t you seen it?'**_

❖ ❖ ❖

_The male dropped to the ground as Dean slowly lowered the gun, cautious as he slowly approached the body to check for any signs of life. Though surely even the demon couldn’t have survived a shot to the head with a engraved bullet, whether it had indeed killed it or sent it back to whatever hell it had come from._

_It had only taken those few seconds of focus, those couple of steps towards the body that gave them his back for the actual demon to act. Not from the fallen man before him, but from behind him._

_A snap of the neck had instantly killed Alex as Dean twisted around to face Alex’s companion, too shocked at first to react when the demon had soon shoved him against the wall, the newly retrieved blade sinking into his right shoulder until the hunter had dropped his gun with a curse._

_He had been too slow. He had hesitated. Too many mistakes. He was cursing himself even as he watched the demon raise the blade again, other hand tight around his neck to keep him from escaping the blow._

_If it hadn’t been for Sammy showing up when he had and distracting the demon for a couple of seconds, time long enough for Dean to twist the knife in his hand and turn it on him, then the older Winchester probably would have joined his friend that day._

_He never should have let his guard down. To let people get too close to him. He learnt the hard way that in his line of duty, too many people could get hurt for just being around him._

❖ ❖ ❖

The file goes flying as Dean sweeps his arm over the table, his anger and guilt finally getting the better of him as he shouts at the empty room. The lamp was soon to follow, the glass bulb shattering as it struck the ground, not that he was paying much mind to it.

He had never forgotten that night, or all the other times he had failed people. Maybe one day he might manage to free himself of the guilt he always felt weighing heavy on his shoulder. Maybe it was stuck with him forever.

The only consolidation for the mistake that night was the human they originally thought to be possessed, not in fact an innocent bystander after all. They had learnt that he had played some part in the demon’s presence, quite possibly the one to have called him to the place and helped him stay hidden. But Dean knew he should have been better prepared, should have seen it sooner, shouldn’t have trusted his friend’s word almost instantly that his companion isn't a risk.

The brief moment of respite as he fights to control his ragged breathing was short-lived, cursing as he grabs the back of the chair and turning, throwing it at the nearest wall before pressing his back to the wall as he slowly slides down to sit on the floor.

He couldn’t let that happen again. He couldn’t be late, couldn’t let his guard down. No one else was going to get hurt this time around for his mistakes. 

_He’s always been too late. Not again._

_**'Again, yes. You are always late.'**_

[Hurricane](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lsw2G7Zztho)


	4. 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐫𝐲 𝐍𝐨 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞...

_He’s always too late. And this time, through his own stubbornness, he was once again to blame. Both for allowing the accident and for being the cause._

_The screams escaped the victim as they found themselves pierced once more by the blade, at first something they had not identified as a threat. How wrong they were, how lost they would be if the rest remained oblivious to what lurked in their presence. How foolish they had been to think marks tattooed by ink onto their skin could keep them safe._

_Pained, his eyes once more meet the midnight black of the demon before him, restraints no longer needed now in his weakened state. Not that it seemed to matter much as, before another scream for help, of warning, could escape him, he felt the blade sink in below his sternum, quickly sending him into the darkness._

❖ ❖ ❖

Dean blinks as he came to, eyes darting around the dim room before he presses a hand to the wall to help him rise to his feet. Though he soon found himself on the ground once more as his hand slips on the surface, his attention turning to the sensation of something on his hands. Something that he has grown quite familiar with in his work as a hunter. And of his time in trapped in hell punishing souls, how dark he had let himself go then. 

**‘** _**How dark you are now.’** _

Still, it took him that little longer to fully take note of it as the lights flickered on once he located the switch, blinking at the red smeared on his hands. The blood that has seeped along the floor, following him to where he had been collapsed in the corner. He’s almost hesitant to look, the sense of already knowing what he’d face holding him for that second more before he pushes it away and raises his eyes.

To say it was a massacre was an understatement, the four bodies of the angels devastated near beyond recognition. Those who had been willing to turn on their own to help reunite heaven, and bring peace once more with the help of the hunters they had learnt to trust. The cruelty behind the cuts, the slashes, the _torture_ , was all too familiar to the hunter, forcing forward the memories of his mother stuck to the ceiling, of his work in hell when he had given in to the pain after thirty years. **_‘You do remember, you know you can’t escape it. Can’t escape_ me _.’_**

And it’s almost like talking to himself again, when he had been shown a glimpse of what would happen if he died. A trick on his mind, he had thought for so long, merely a push from yet another person to chase the hunter from his work. Until the mark and the First Blade had come along.

Time and time again, he had always proved to be among the best of the hunters. No attachments, nothing to lose. **_‘But that’s not the real reason, is it? No, the pain, the torture, the suffering. You live for it still just as you did down there. We aren’t so different after all..’_**

[Lovely](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nI5dxcAW4Wk)

❖ ❖ ❖


End file.
